“Yogurt, brussels sprouts, and peanut butter.” He pulled out the jar of Jiff from the back of the appliance. “She doesn’t even know that this gets hard when it’s cold.”
He slammed it down on the counter and looked at Mike who had no answer. Sure, he liked room temperature peanut butter as much as anyone, but he got the feeling the man’s fury wasn’t because the condiment was cold.
“So, you’re engaged?”
Edward leaned back against the counter. “No. Yes. Well, no.”
“She either said yes or she didn’t.”
He sighed. “Actually, it’s more like I haven’t asked yet. Then she got mad about some stupid sushi book and stormed over here to renovate this disaster.”
Mike looked around. It was clear that there were half-finished projects everywhere he looked. But it also seemed like she must have been here a while. After all, no one could partially start this many projects in a day or so.
“Exactly how long has she been here?”
“Long enough to nearly die a hundred times.” Edward cocked his head. “She’s on the roof right now, isn’t she?”
No sense in lying. “Yeah.”
“In the dark where one misstep could pitch her over the edge. And did you see this?” He held up a book on the counter. It was covered in fruit stains, but the title was clear. Wiring a House. For Pros by Pros.
Mike tried to keep an open mind. “Does she have an electrical background?”
“She’s a religion and philosophy professor at Northwestern.” Edward dropped his head back against the cabinet. “Don’t get me wrong. The woman’s brilliant. Spent a year hanging out with the Dalai Lama. She knows kabalistic symbols and Hindi mumbo jumbo like the back of her hand. If it’s esoteric, she’s an expert. But ask her to put together a bookcase, and you’ll have nails sticking out of your carpet. On a practical, real world basis, she’s a hazard.”
Mike wanted to give Tori the benefit of the doubt. There wasn’t a single part of Edward that he liked, but he had to admit the man had a point. She had fallen off her roof.
So rather than talk about Tori’s potential mishaps, he turned the conversation back to Edward. “You don’t sound like you really want to marry her.”
“Of course I do,” he huffed. “We’ve been together for nearly five years. You don’t throw that away because she inherited a death trap of a house.”
That wasn’t at all what Mike meant, but he’d learned early not to mess around in other people’s relationships. So he pushed away from the counter. “Look, I’ll just—”
“Do you want to make some money?”
Mike tilted his head, wondering if he’d heard correctly. “What?”
“Here’s the problem: she’s got this independent streak. All she needs is some time by herself to realize that she needs me. But she can’t get time alone if I keep coming around checking up on her.”
“So don’t come around.”
“I’m terrified she’s going to kill herself. Her whole family is.” He abruptly pulled out his wallet and counted out five twenties. “But if she has someone looking out for her. A neighbor that she trusts… You know, someone who will call 911 if she accidentally impales herself or something.”
Mike’s tone was cold. “I don’t need money to call 911.”
Edward didn’t seem at all embarrassed. “Of course not. You’re a good neighbor. But she’s also got the worst judgment when it comes to people, especially men.”
No argument there. After all, Tori had apparently picked this dick for half a decade.
“I’ve known her since college. You wouldn’t believe the losers she was attracted to.”
Mike was not going to say a word. Not. A. Word.
“So a good neighbor would see if she picks up some guy. If someone starts hanging around.” He set his business card down on top of the stack of twenties. It read Prairie State College on top of it.
“You want me to call you if she starts dating.” Mike folded his arms across his chest.
“Well, yeah. Look, I’m just worried about her. If you could keep an eye on her so I don’t have to? Just check on her every night. Make sure she hasn’t electrocuted herself.” He gestured at the book on wiring.
“I can do that,” he said. After all, he’d been planning to do that anyway from the moment he’d first seen the book on wiring. Or maybe it was from before. When he’d seen those legs pushing off the gutter as she tried to swing herself back onto the roof. Not to mention that delightful pink bra.